Until Never
by TastyAsItGets
Summary: On November 19th, 1947, Edmund disobeys Aslan in order to rendezvous with his first love on the eve of her wedding day.


**_~ Until Never ~_**

_A one-shot submitted to the Narnia Fic Exchange by TastyAsItGets_

* * *

I shiver in the cold night air, trying to burrow my hands deeper into my pockets. I wish I could pace to get my blood flowing again, but it would likely alert the guards to my very illegal presence on the palace grounds.

From under the shadow of the willow, I look out over the frost-covered gardens. With every minute that ticks by, my heart sinks further into my belly. I had been so sure that she'd risk it, that she'd want to see me. To know how I was doing after all this time that we've been back in England. How could she not wonder about me after everything we've been through together?

Maybe it is easier for her to forget than it is for me. After all, news of her wedding is all over the newspapers—with her smiling face, her hand in _his_—while I am once again a commoner who goes unnoticed by the press. _She_ doesn't have to see me on the cover of every newspaper as she walks to her job. _She_ doesn't have concerned siblings tip-toeing around _her_ about _my_ impending marriage! Peter, Su, and Lu are always not-so-subtly reminding me about Aslan's order that we must never contact her in England, and I've had such good self-control…

But I just can't anymore…I have to see her, just once, to know she thinks of me sometimes. That's all I need to get through the day. To know that I exist to her. That she hasn't forgotten us, forgotten everything that happened in Narnia.

It's late. Long past the time I asked her to be here in the note I left on her writing table. Maybe she's mad that I invaded her privacy by sneaking into the palace. I had to! It was the only way to contact her! I know very well that her mail is screened—I would have sounded like a demented admirer if I actually wrote what I wanted to say to her, so she would never have received it had I not personally delivered it.

But what if a maid saw the note after I left? No, no one touches the desk; it would have been safe there.

_Please, Aslan!_ I think, fully aware that I am in blatant disregard of his order not to contact her._ Let her come!_

Part of me is hoping that she's just tied up with last-minute wedding preparations. Maybe she can't get away. But it's a futile hope, for she's the kind of person who obtains what she wants. If she wanted to be here, she would have found a way. But she hasn't. She isn't here.

Disappointed in myself, I turn to leave. I've risked getting arrested by the Queen's Guard twice already—once to leave the note in her room, and again tonight—and all for nothing. Just to be rejected by the person who I haven't been able to forget since…hell, since I first laid eyes on her in Narnia!

"Edmund?"

Suddenly, she's in front of me. She's different now: paler, and her hair doesn't brush the bottom of her back like it did, but it's her. I swear every cell in my body has frozen in place.

She crosses her arms over her thick, exquisite navy-blue bathrobe and looks up at me.

"How did you get into my apartment?" she asks. Not angrily, just curiously.

"You forget I used to be a Master Spy," I say, amazed that my mouth is still functional. I wonder if she remembers the effect she had—has—on me.

She smiles, her lips pursing in that enigmatic way that perplexes so many. "I remember. I also remember that we were forbidden to see each other, because if we did—"

"I had to, Liss. You have no idea what it's like, seeing your face everywhere."

She glances about us to make sure we are alone. "I know," she whispers. "If there were anything I could do to stop the press, I would. You know that, Ed. I can't imagine what it's like for you…"

"No, you can't," I state, unable to hide my accusing tone.

"There's nothing to be done. You were king. You know I need an heir."

I have no reply, so I study her. Drink her in. She's a stiff cocktail with a bittersweet aftertaste.

"I haven't forgotten Narnia, Ed," she whispers. "I am just trying to be realistic. Phillip is…wonderful. I am grateful we found each other. He is sacrificing so much for us to wed."

I would go to any lengths to be in Phillip's position right now. But she knows that. Because I already have, in another world.

"I thought I'd feel better from seeing you," I admit. "Close the book on it all, as they say."

"And?"

"I want to throw myself off of Big Ben."

"I don't appreciate your sarcasm."

"You never did."

We lapse back into silence.

"Do you think that…someday we might…?" I start.

"How?"

"I don't know; I don't know."

"I have to get back, Ed. I'm sorry."

I nod. This is not how I imagined this would go. There was supposed to be embracing, tears, regret, passion…

But then I remember that this is Liss. Things with her never turn out how I think they should. And that's why I could never get enough of her.  
I want to say something deep, something resonating, but nothing comes to mind. This was it—this might be the last time I ever see her face—

She steps forward, gently cups my face, and brushes my flushed cheek with her lips.

"Goodbye, Ed."

I watch her go. When she's out of sight, I imagine her walking to her apartment and shutting the door. Leaning against the wall, tears of regret flowing down her face. Missing me already.

But I shiver again and turn away from the lights of the palace, knowing it is a pipe dream. She won't cry. She will go stoically to her desk, seat herself, and rationally record the events of the day in her diary. She won't mention me. She won't weep.

I know this because I've seen her spectacularly fail at diplomacy and almost start a war. I've seen her in the thick of battle, her hair streaming behind her, her teeth gritted and sword raised while those closest to her fall to their deaths. I've seen her injured, bleeding, on the brink of death.

So I know better than anyone…

My Elizabeth doesn't cry.

* * *

**Who's the woman? **

**Hint: she's still alive today... ;)**


End file.
